average speed 21.6kmph
odometer reads 4462km
After the disappointing progress of the past few days, we are up with the larks (or suitable alpine wildlife equivalent, marmot perhaps?) and raring to get a good days climbing under our (ever tightening) belts. Unfortunately for us the blue skies and bright sun have disappeared completely, to be replaced by rains of biblical proportions. Still, its not snow, so we set off, skins cloaked in all manner of once waterproof items. On the path along the Salzach we bump, the sound of rain on dirt ground punctuated only by our frequent hollers of POZOR! (Czech for Danger!) as we avoid various potholes, slippery wooden bridges and tight mountain corners. Its not long before we abandon bike path and hit the trusted road once more, avoiding unneccesary 15% climbs to visit random (and lovely Im sure) alpine churches that seem to be the standard waypoints for international long distance bike trails. As we are on the road, we do encounter a number of dark and slippery tunnels through the mountain, which we are not entirely sure we are allowed in, but the spokey dokeys are flashing away and the motorised vehicle drivers behave themselves, crawling along behind us without so much as a toot.
In one of the many towns we encounter, we stop to consult our map, wondering whether to stay with the tarmac tongue or the safety of the circuitous cycle path. Of course, this being Austria, as soon as the map has been unsheathed from his waterproof case, a man has crossed two lanes of traffic and stopped his car on the side of the road in order to offer us directions in German, whilst we try to explain where we intend to go, in English. He helpfully directs us to the correct road to Kaprun, but wait! Whats this? Two more spirit guides have arrived. Having heard the gentleman direct us onto the road, they are insistent that their directions are superior, and I ascertain from the lady (using hand gestures) that there is a lovely superflat bike path through the fields for us to follow. We leave the three to discuss the merits of their different routes (navigating seems to be the Austrian national sport) and we speed off on the bicycle path. Spirit guides were correct, its superflat, smooth and fast! Before we know it we have covered another 40km through the river valley, mountains high above us on either side, even the road is having to climb a little, but not us!
We seat ourselves outside a huge Spar supermarket and eat our leftover lentils from last nights dinner, Hazel and I commenting that our Mums would be most proud. Its at this point I realise I have actually turned into my parents, Ive just replaced rambling with cycling. Hazel does in fact keep commenting upon my manner of innapropriate jokes which is making me resemble my father more each day. We hit the road once more, and after 30km we arrive at our penultimate town of Neukirchen. We have been climbing gradually all day and are at 800m above sea level. Alas over the next 5km or so we must ascend a further 300m to the 1100m altitude of delightful Krimml. We decide therefore to stop for a coffee and toilet break, as Philippa has not been able to locate a suitable wilderness spot for her ablutions. As we stop on a street corner, another delightful gentleman on a bicycle starts talking to me in German (its always me they talk to, its my healthy Austrian demeanour they are drawn too). I have no idea what he is asking me but I inform him I seek a cafe. Not content with giving directions, this chap decides to lead us to his favourite. Wobbling precariously on his ancient steed, I try very hard not to crash into the back of him as we proceed downhill at approx 2mph. After cappucinos we are on our way, and begin our ascent. Controversially, we decide to opt for the offroad bike path rather than the road for our final climb, as it leads us straight to the Krimml Wasserfall (waterfall). Soon enough we realise our mistake as we attempt to crawl up a 15% hill over boulders and streams. Hazels unbalanced bike, with unladen front wheel, starts bucking, and rearing his head in the air, as she tries to keep both wheels on the ground and drag her ten tonne back wheel up the mountain. After 6km, and gasps of wonderment from unladen cyclists who have resorted to walking up, we are level with the town, and still no sign of the waterfall. The track is growing steeper and steeper and so we abandon bikes, and go to look around the next corner for the elusive Wasserfall. We spot him, far off, perhaps another 10km up the mountain, and decide that perhaps, a challenging mountain bike trail is not for three fully loaded tourers. About turn and in a jiffy we are in the tiny town of Krimml. Views are delightful, folk are friendly and we find accommodation in the home of the Gruber family, a charming elderly Austrian couple with whom we have a complete inability to communicate. We do our usual trick of smiling a lot whilst they yatter on in German, and when she realises we havent a clue what shes saying, Frau Gruber is endlessly amused. Chuckling away as she leads us through to our room in her check dress and pinny, she is without doubt, my favourite person of the tour so far. I throw in some laughs and we continue in this delightful manner, all of us speaking in our own language and chortling on at our own jokes. The room and mountain view are beautiful, I really am struggling to take in the Alps, impossible to photograph, or indeed describe, this is like nowhere I have been before, and traversing it by bicycle makes me feel a connection to the terrain I have not known before. We are at 1076m above sea level, and we have cycled here from the North Cape of Norway. Nearly 3000 miles across lands, powered only by our own bodies. I am struggling to comprehend what is actually happening but I am immensely proud and feeling altitudinally elated.
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